


There's Only One Bed

by high_functioning_sociopath



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Trope Subversion/Inversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:22:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26992105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/high_functioning_sociopath/pseuds/high_functioning_sociopath
Summary: "Uh-huh. And when you insisted that we're adults and they let us share a room, do you remember what they did? Do you, Derek?Do you?""Stiles—""They gave us bunk beds!""I rem—""Bunk beds, Derek! I couldn't sleep all night in fear of your ridiculous, giant stone body falling through the tiny top bunk made for 80-pound children and crushing me to death!"Derek frowns. "You love my body."“Of course I do, you have the body of a Greek god! That’s not the point!”~~~In which Stiles and Derek have to stay with Derek's family for Laura's wedding.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 22
Kudos: 426





	There's Only One Bed

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to ashley and [boyer22j](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boyer22j) for looking this over and making me feel super good about it!! <3
> 
> and thanks to clotpolesonly for giving me a name for Papa Hale because i was unable to think of a name i would use exactly one (1) time in this fic hjbsjkfnfk

"Do we have to go? I don't wanna go. Let's not go."

Derek doesn't look up from the t-shirts he's folding (Stiles', because if Stiles folds his own shirts, they'll be an awful, wrinkled mess, and he's trying to keep the bad impressions to a minimum). "It's my sister's wedding, I have to go. You can stay home if you want."

Stiles scoffs from his spot on the bed. "As if. You're way too codependent to go without me."

Derek pauses folding to level Stiles with a flat look.

"I mean... _We're_ too codependent for you to go without me?"

Derek raises an eyebrow, laughing when Stiles throws a pillow at him.

"Well, excuse me for adoring you." Stiles sniffs.

"You're excused, because it's mutual and I'm not a hypocrite," Derek magnanimously says.

"Aww, that was almost romantic, you sap," Stiles teases.

"It _was_ romantic," Derek argues with a pout. "Don't be a dick."

"You're right, it was very romantic." Stiles sits up and grabs the front of Derek's shirt to pull him closer and give him a loud, messy kiss. Derek pinches his sides, smirking at the squeak it elicits, and uses the moment to turn the kiss drier and sweeter before pushing Stiles away to land flat on the bed again.

" _Someone_ has to pack for us," Derek reminds him pointedly when Stiles tries to protest.

Stiles groans, loud and obnoxious, before propping himself up on his elbows. "Okay, one more time, then I'll drop it: do we _really_ have to go?"

Pausing for a moment in folding a gray henley, Derek sighs. "Laura will be devastated if you miss her wedding. And she'll be pissed if it's for anything other than a dire emergency. She loves you."

"But your parents hate me!"

"My parents don't hate you."

Stiles gives him a look that somehow clearly relays, _Why would you even attempt to bullshit me like this, Derek, I have all five senses and don’t need any of them to see_ **_that_** _._ "They make us sleep in separate rooms," Stiles reminds him.

“Not anymore,” Derek points out, but it’s a weak argument and he knows it.

"Uh-huh. And when you insisted that we're adults and they let us share a room, do you remember what they did? Do you, Derek? _Do you_?"

"Stiles—"

"They gave us bunk beds!"

"I rem—"

" _Bunk beds_ , Derek! I couldn't sleep all night in fear of your ridiculous, giant stone body falling through the tiny top bunk made for 80-pound children and crushing me to death!"

Derek frowns. "You love my body."

“Of course I do, you have the body of a Greek god! That’s not the point!”

"They don’t hate you, they just...don't like me being with you," he finishes lamely.

Stiles blinks. "That's not better. You see how that’s not better, right?"

Dropping the still-unfolded henley, Derek pushes the suitcase aside to crawl onto the bed and flop full-body onto Stiles, who lets out a soft ‘oof’ and starts giggling. “Can’t breeeathe,” he manages through his breathy laughs.

“Too bad.” Derek hums. “Comfy.”

“Am nooot; skin and bones under here.”

Derek props himself up on his elbows, relieving the pressure on Stiles’ lungs, and looks at him seriously. “I know it’s frustrating,” he starts, voice soft and understanding, “but their issues are _their_ issues. Okay? It doesn’t matter what they think. It matters what I think. And _I_ ”—he smirks wickedly and slides down to nip at Stiles’ belly—“think you’re absolutely wonderful.”

Stiles sucks in a breath at Derek’s new placement. “You know, I have a great idea of how to chill me out,” he offers, failing to feign casual.

Derek flicks his eyes to Stiles’ pants and hums. “Be quick — I really do need to finish packing.”

“Challenge accepted!” Stiles crows, and pounces on Derek gleefully.

* * *

Laura jumps on Derek as soon as they’re through the door, letting him lift her in a tight bear hug and squealing loudly.

“I’M GETTING MARRIED TOMORROW!” she yells in his ear, bouncing with excitement as soon as her feet touch the floor again.

“And bursting my eardrums in the process,” Derek grumbles, ruining it with his inability to tamp down on his smile.

“I can be as loud as I want, Der-Bear, you know why?”

“Because you’re getting married tomorrow!” Stiles cries enthusiastically, and Laura pounces on him with a bear hug of his own. Derek has to steady them so they don’t crash to the floor with the force of it, but Stiles just laughs. “Congrats, Laura, I’m so ridiculously happy for you,” he says when she lets him go.

“Me, too!” she squeals, face practically glowing with her unbridled joy.

Cora greets them much the same way, with excited tackles and happy laughter. Derek really should visit more, he thinks, despite the two or three thousand miles between them; maybe it’ll be his New Year’s resolution, if this weekend goes well.

Laura actually suggested proposing to Stiles at the reception (“It’s so _romantic_ , Der! There’ll already be fairy lights and everything!”), but he doesn’t want to be so public about it.

He thinks he has a slightly better idea anyway.

“I’ll bring the bag to the room,” Stiles offers right before Derek’s parents make their way to the small crowd at the door.

Talia gives Derek a much tamer hug than his sister had and a kiss on the cheek; Robert claps him on the shoulder with a gruff greeting. They do the same to Stiles, who returns the hug a little nervously and gives the pair a small, hopeful smile.

It’s a weird mix of painful and exciting, knowing his parents have never initiated contact with his partner before, but seeing them actually—finally—putting in a modicum of effort to be nice rather than civil.

“It’s the same room as last time,” Talia says. Her expression has the same nervous hopefulness as Stiles’ when she says it, though Derek can’t quite figure out why. “When you get back, we’ll get the small talk over with.”

Stiles nods and makes his way up the steps.

Talia gives Derek a warm smile. “So everything’s still going well with you two?”

“They’re great, mom,” he says honestly. “Better than ever.”

“I’m glad. Really, I—”

Stiles nearly crashes into Derek only seconds after disappearing, tugging on his arm almost frantically. “Derek, Derek, you have to come, you have to see—”

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Just _come_ , Derek, come on, hurry up, you have to see—” Stiles doesn’t stop talking as Derek lets himself be dragged up the steps and toward the guest room they’re using, only pausing once they’re in the doorway. He flails his arms inside the room with a hissed, “ _Look_.”

Derek does, and he swallows heavily at the sight of the queen-sized bed in the middle of the far wall, topped with pale blue sheets and a thick, down comforter.

“There’s only one bed,” Stiles whispers, voice thick with amazement. When Derek looks over at him, Stiles is _beaming_ , face split on one of the happiest grins Derek’s ever seen him wear.

Derek pulls him close and buries his face in Stiles’ neck. He doesn’t say anything, expresses his own joy through a tight embrace, through kisses peppered across his face, through locking the door and coaxing him through a whimpering climax.

The selfie they take spread across the mattress, hair mussed and faces grinning, is one of their favorites of the whole weekend. It’s second only to the one taken the next day, captured on a professional camera between family portraits, of Derek on one knee below a flabbergasted Stiles.

(Whose gleeful face is blurry from how vigorously he nods his _yes_.)

**Author's Note:**

> my brain at 3am: there's only one bed,,,,,,,,,but different
> 
> i've never tried trope subversion before haha i hope you liked it!! <3


End file.
